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Chapter 10: Liz Prince
It has been two weeks since Ryan and I went on our first date. He didn’t spare a day to start on courting me. He’s really sweet but not overtly sweet to the point where you get a toothache or cavities and gag from the gestures that he throws my way.
Every other day, he would come to the restaurant for his lunch break or pick me up from work for a late dinner date or on some occasions, he would pick me up early in the morning for a breakfast before we head to school. The more I spent time with him, the more I like him. I may even start to fall for him.
The only thing that has been stopping me from fully trusting him with my heart is this feeling that has nagged me to no end at the back of my head that he’s hiding something from me. For example, there were these times when we were out at one of our dates and some pretty girl comes up to him and call him a different name.
At first, I let it slide, but when it came to the point where wherever we went some bimbo would come up to him and try to hit on him. Like come on! He’s on a date with me and these girls were shamelessly trying to steal his attention from me. I’m not the jealous type but if anything I was just annoyed.
Granted, he never paid them any mind but I summed up the courage to confront him one day. I gave him props for being honest with me about him having a past as a player like who doesn’t?
Who can blame him for being one, he’s a freaking beautiful specimen of a man with a body of a Greek god–not that I have seen him naked or anything–you can just tell by the way his clothes fit the muscles on his upper body; which makes me think of dirty thoughts about this boy who apparently is crazy about me.
When I asked him about his real name, he showed me his driver’s license that has his full name on it: Ryan Mead DOB: October 10 – this I stored in my memory as I love celebrating people’s birthdays and giving gifts. I felt relieved that he was honest with his name to me and I’m not some play toy that he can add on his black book.
Oh, yeah he tells me how much he wants me all the time. But more often than not, he has some extra potent control over his hormones than me. I feel somewhat like a slut at times because my mind gets polluted with thoughts of us entangled in a heat of passion.
He’s very respectful that he even asks for permission to touch me and if I say no, he wouldn’t even pout or whine about it. So, what is stopping me from agreeing to be his girlfriend? Nothing
We are currently lounging in his living room watching a recorded episode of Spartacus on Movie Central. He got me hooked on this show and I guess I also love spending time with him. We’re both sitting on the big couch with at least a few feet distance between us.
As I have said before, he’s a total gentleman and just lets me make the first moves. He also lets me take the lead on the pace of the whole situation whether sexual or not.
Tonight, my goal is to actually kiss him on the lips. We’ve kissed each other’s cheeks but never the lips. I looked over where he sat completely absorbed with watching the onslaught going on in the show leaning back on the couch with his right arm stretched at the back of the couch.
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